Now I know I'll never let you go

different POV collab with sweetie @emma-kathrine
 
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"Yes, yes, the desert is ready to go!" I kind of snapped at one of the waiters. My back was getting a bit st!ff, sure sign that the day was thankfully nearing its end. Another good one, you lucky bas.tard, I told myself looking at the kitchen, the lovely sight of empty plates telling me the politicians had found my dishes good enough for their sophisticated tastes.
 
Now it's time to go out and see if the person I most want to see is possibly out there. It /is/ a Democrat's event, after all. I emerged through the double doors, having removed my chef's hat. I paced nervously through the hall, wondering if it was a good idea. I reassured myself. It was. Chefs are often welcomed with compliments at the end of a succesful event. No one noticed me, despite my uniform, as the whole room was busy with itself and the remnants of my painstakingly cooked dinner. I scanned the huge room, to seemingly no avail. I was just starting to go back down the hall, when the ladies' room door swung open and out came a tall woman, with a crown of golden hair, balancing herself impeccably on high heels. Who else?
 
"Dalia," I almost sighed in relief. "I didn't expect to see you here," I lied. She blinked, seemingly in shock, before she found her words.
 
"Adam!" she exclaimed and added, "you cleaned up nicely, huh?" after which a shadow came upon her face as if she remembered who she was talking to.
 
"Yeah, I laid off my old lifestyle," I replied as if I hadn't been through hell and back in the past few months.
 
"It suits you, Adam. You look really great."
 
"You too, Da--" I started to say when Dalia's mother sprang up from out of nowhere.
 
"Adam?" she said with equal amount of surprise and disgust, and I wondered whether she knew about what had happened. Perhaps it looked like something else than it was, as we stood there in the dimly lit hall a little closer than two strangers would.
 
"Mom," Dalia scolded. There was no misunderstanding her tone, "Not now," she added.
 
"Oh dear," her mom replied making a u-turn.
 
"Nice to see you again, Miriam!" I tried to be polite, which incredibly enough made Dalia laugh.
 
We stood there, Dalia resplendent as usual, while I dug my hands deeper and deeper into my pockets. It shamed me that she was treating me so well. The seconds dragged by in silence as we alternated between staring at the floor and each other.
 
"Listen Dalia... About what happened last time-" I started, my palms getting sweaty. Remembering what I'd done, what I would have done if that Warren guy wouldn't have broken in and kicked my a.ss was still keeping me awake at night. I've always known I'm not a particularly good guy, but I never thought I could be a monster.
 
"We don't have to talk about that," she said, her cheeks flushing bright pink.
 
"I just... it's my biggest regret, what I did to you that day. I really wish we could talk somewhere less, umm, crowded," I said as she started fidgeting from foot to foot.
 
"I don't know," Dalia mumbled as I realized what it sounded like.
 
"We can go to a public place, wherever you want, I just meant a place where there wouldn't be so many interested ears. I have no wish to bother you, in any way," I offered quickly, embarrassed, trying to reassure her that I would never dream of having her alone again, that much less of harming her even by starting a rumor about her.
 
"Adam, I--- meet me on the roof in 5, okay? I'd like to talk."
 
"Yeah, yeah, super! See you in five, then."
 
"Great," she chuckled at my overexcitedness.
 
Dalia emerged from behind the heavy roof door, enveloped in her soft coat, opening her box clutch and fishing out a cigarette as she walked towards me. She looked a little hesitant, and I got that perfectly.
 
"Thanks for coming," I exhaled the smoke from my own cigarette. She nodded and gestured for the lighter in my hand. I lit her stick. We looked over the city in silence for a few seconds, the glimmering lights cruelly beautiful as I stood there wondering how to apologise to my ex for trying to rap.e her the last time I saw her.
 
"I'm so sorry, Dalia. There are no words... I..." something grabbed hold of my voice, from within, and tears welled in my eyes, unbidden. "I wish I could say I'm not a monster, but I don't know anymore," I managed to add, wiping that stupid stray tear with the back of my hand, the smoke drifting through the humid air.
 
"You're not a monster. You were not yourself, I think," she replied, not unkindly.
 
"Was it not me? Wasn't it me who got his as.s kicked by your guy for hitting you?" I said, barely able to look at her pretty face, the blurry memory of her scared eyes, in tears, that day, haunting me.
 
"It was you on drugs. Mad at me, not without some reason," Dalia answered. "Warren beat you so hard, I was terrified something would happen to you. It's all in the past," she sighed. I'd heard she had gone as far as moving in with Dallas-Norwood, and everyone knew now about the Democrat princess and her Republican prince, smashing convention like some sort of modern Romeo and Juliet. That made me a little sick too, in an envious way.
 
"I'm so sorry," was all I could say, hoping the pathetic lovesick look in my eyes wasn't too obvious.
 
"Adam, I can't forgive you like that. I want to, but.... I can't."
 
Every word felt like a dagger, but a rightful one that I deserved. I looked at my feet, it was all I could do.
 
"I don't know what to do, Dalia. You... you were the best thing that ever happened to me," I was losing it. It was hitting me, once again, what I'd done and I was losing it. To my surprise, she took my hand, squeezing it tenderly. A second or two passed with us standing there holding hands.
 
"Sorry," she mumbled and let go.
 
"I get it. I didn't really think you could forgive me. I don't think you /should/ forgive me. I guess... I guess I just wanted you to know I am sorry, for what little it is worth," I replied simply, as articulate as I'm ever like to be.
 
The silence grew between us, our cigarettes smoking themselves, the ashes growing longer and longer, unshaken by either of us. There was a whole city below us, with people living their own stories, and I almost certainly knew no one had regrets as large as mine. What I'd done... it was almost unspeakable, and I thanked the universe every day for the broken nose Dallas-Norwood had gifted me, because it'd kept me from harming Dalia any further.
 
"You can't change the past no matter how hard you try," she said matter-of-factly, her back on the city as if weren't there.
 
I nodded, starring blankly at anything but her.
 
"I know. I've spent the past months trying, really hard, but time only goes one way. I can't take it back. I can beg for forgiveness and accept that you can't give it, and I can swear that I won't ever get within 10 feet of you, if that's what you want," I replied, shaking almost visibly. My hands had grown impossibly cold and there was a huge lump in my throat that made my voice ragged and weird.
 
"Is that what you want? Forgiveness?" she seemed to finally understand, "you have it. I just want to see you smile again." she pushed herself off the railing and took a step towards me. "It hurts me to see you like this. But I trust you. I trust the sober you."
 
"You do?" I asked, finally looking into her eyes.
 
"The sober you, yes," she replied evenly. I nodded all in a hurry.
 
"I've been sober for 5 months. I have no desire to go back there, but the regrets have been eating at me," I said.
 
"Good," Dalia cracked a smile. Why does she look so beautiful? Why is she so kind? It makes having lost her forever that much harder.
 
She took a look at the beautifully decorated scene around us. The rooftop had been turned into a nice garden, with benches and chairs and lamps and decorations and even plants that can stand the cold.
 
"Dalia, you're shaking!" I said as soon as I realized it and whipped off my chef's coat to lay on her shoulders.
 
"Thanks,"she smiled. Breathing deeply, she said "I've missed you."
 
From thinking she'd never forgive me to hearing her say she missed me is a huge step. It made my heart triple in size. It reminded me of the good days.
 
"Obviously, I've missed you too," there were goose bumps on my arms. I didn't know if it was the cold or Dalia, but there they were. I looked at her for the longest time as she smiled shyly.
 
"I'm with Warren, and he's an amazing guy. But you are too, and a part of me will always care for you, so much," she said, ending with a sigh. There we go. Warren.
 
"He's a really lucky guy. He knows it, too, though, doesn't he? I mean, he would literally kill for you, I should know," I snorted, rubbing my now slightly deformed, because of him, nose. Her eyes dimmed a little, as she looked at the floor. There was what I'd call a sad smile on her lips.
 

When she didn't say anything for a long time, I said "He knows it, right?"
 
"I don't know," she mumbled.
 
"Sorry?" I wasn't sure I'd understood.
 
"I said; I don't know," she said, her eyes glazed over.
 
I'd sworn I wouldn't try to do anything remotely romantic, but she was magnetic. I wanted to kiss her temples, to shoo away the tears that were almost there. She pushed her chin upwards instead and pressed her lips on mine, the sweetest kiss I'd ever received.I put my arms wrapped around her as she pulled away to breathe.
 
"I've missed you," she said again, finally opening her eyes.
 
My heart was clawing its way out of my chest, it seemed. Her lips, her sweet, sweet lips. And she kissed me! I was going in for a hug!
 
"I've missed you too. So much. But I don't want you to do something you don't want to do," I took her hand and used both mine to warm it. I looked into her eyes, the very picture of confusion looking back.
 
"Do you happen to know what I want to do?" she giggled bitterly, "Because I don't," she added. I shook my head, my smile disappearing.
 
"I know you live with that guy. It's more serious than you and I ever were. I know he's a good guy, and a man that's going to go far, not just a chef. I know you deserve someone great, that loves you, that's ready to give you everything you want," I replied bitterly, suddenly aware I'd put a chef's uniform on her shoulders, not a designer blazer like he might've. I wanted to, but I couldn't let go of her hand. I wanted to bury my nose in her hair and hold her tight.
 
"What if he's not giving me everything I want?" she held on.
 
"Are you sure of that? Is he aware of it?" I needed to be sure. But she shrugged and looked down, her eyes shiny and sad. I realized I didn't care. If he wasn't aware of it, it was his own stupid fault. Dalia was considering me once again, that was all that mattered. I cupped her chin again, nullifying the space between us by placing my other hand in the small of her back. We looked at each other for a split second, but then, then I kissed her like I used to when we were that silly wild couple. Her lips were eager and sweet and her tongue found its way into my mouth. Electricity coarsed through my body and I could feel the familiar tingle of my d.ck waking up, because that's all it took with Dalia. I'd dug my fingers into her blonde silky hair and was holding on to the back of her neck for dear life, but she was holding on tighter. She moaned and I grunted.
 
I'm going to die, if not of happiness, of Dallas-Norwood killing me.
 
"Make love to me, Adam," she moaned through the kisses. Suddenly both mine and her coats were on the ground, Dalia nestled in my arms. She slid her hands teasingly down the hem of my jeans, her palms against my skin.
 
I let my hands trail from the back of her neck to chest. "These are new," I couldn't help but say upon feeling her noticeably larger breasts.
 
"Yeah," she smiled as if that was not the only trick up her sleeve, and, surely enough, she loosened her cross-over shirt in one side and let it fall open revealing a sexy bra. And it was as glorious as it felt.
 
How could I stop, after she told me to make love to her? I knew it was yet another "grey" thing to do, but it's Dalia. Dalia! And her new, delicious breasts. I buried my face into the nape of her neck, like I'd dreamed of doing minutes earlier. She smelled divinely and her skin was amazingly soft as I kissed her neck, nibbling at it. My hands were cupping her breasts. I was thoroughly enjoying the new, fuller, rounder, breasts filling my hands, and Dalia seemed to enjoy what I was doing, because she writhing under me, holding on to the edge tightly.
 
"I'll never be able to let you go," I panted, stopping to look into her eyes, my arms around her to shield her from the cold. She covered my lips with hers as I gently spread her legs, lifting her skirt. Anyone might have ventured up to that rooftop garden and find the senator's daughter about to sc.rew the chef, anyone might have realized I was not her pedigreed politician offspring boyfriend, but there was nothing stopping us, not truly. My legs were growing weaker as my erection grew stronger, but I held on, kissing her, rubbing her p.ssy through her panties as she fumbled with my pants. I could barely believe it, but it was happening.
 
She had undone my pants and let them fall to the ground, pushing my boxers with them. She wrapped her fingers around my member, which was truly unnecessary because I was already rock-hard.
 
"Getting too close," I breathed, "let me be inside you," I urged, pushing her panties down until they fell around her ankles.
 
"Alright," she took charge. "Sit down," Dalia commanded pointing at a metal chair that promised to be freezing cold, but somehow the thought sounded exciting. I sat, and she straddled me, taking a few seconds to adjust herself over me.
 
"Oh, dear lord," she breathed, which was hilarious given how sinful we were being. I grabbed her breasts as she started to move back and forth in my lap.
 
The chair was frigid under me, but somehow it made everything seem more intense, and every time Dalia lowered herself completely over my pen.is, I was that much closer to explode. I allowed myself to get a little scared that someone might find us just to avoid cu.mming too early. I buried my face in her neck, squeezed her breasts, tenderly held on to her hips. I've had a lot of women, but none quite compare to Dalia. She's graceful and dirty at the same time, with an endless appetite and a very exciting appreciation of kinky things.
 
She had her arms around my neck, her eyes closed, biting her lip as she squirmed in my lap, moaning from time to time. I was about to burst, but I knew when I did, this would be over, and I didn't want that, I wanted to prolong this encounter as long as possible.
 
"Wait," I panted, snapping her out of her trance. I helped her get up, her skirt awkwardly around her hips, her panties on the floor somewhere.
 
I led her to the wall where the door was, and pinned her there, my throbbing dic.k hard against her leg while I sucked on her nipple, my fingers on her lips. I used my other hand to finger her, playing with her c.lit as she started sucking on my middle finger.
 
"You dirty girl," I smirked, and, suddenly, she came wildly into my hand, shaking and spasming and pulling my fingers from her lips to her breasts, forcing me to squeeze them.
 
"F*ck. me. again," she panted as her orgasm was fading. I didn't hesitate to bury my d.ck in her sopping wet pus.sy, going as fast as my breath would allow, our sexes slamming violently against each other.